


Divine Sense

by Criticalpancake



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Essek Thelyss-centric, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Magic, Weird stuff in Eiselcross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Criticalpancake/pseuds/Criticalpancake
Summary: On a trip to Eiselcross a few years in the future, Caleb and Essek locate a familiar ring of statues and Essek has a burning question.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 15
Kudos: 200





	Divine Sense

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I wanted to write a cute, fluffy future fic of Caleb and Essek just running amok in Eiselcross poking every sleeping bear their combined curiosity urged them to but then 118 happened and I had a... different idea
> 
> Idk if it means anything but I listened to 'Moth's Wings' by Passion Pit on repeat while writing this cause of its Vibes
> 
> And thank you to the wonderful @TheKnittingJedi for beta reading this!! <3

“So nothing happened when you touched it?” Essek had to speak loudly, his voice muffled by the thick scarf wrapped around his face. Thankfully, the usually relentless wind had taken a brief respite from snatching their words out of the air. On numerous occasions during their trip, Caleb had resorted to using the _Message_ spell to talk to Essek while standing right next to him.

“Not until she stepped in the center,” Caleb said warily. Loitering a few feet away, he had his hands dug into his pockets, probably fiddling with his spell components.

Essek exhaled slowly and let his hand close the last few inches to come to a rest on the stone surface of the orc statue. It was warm, like he’d expected. He traced his other hand through the air, muttered an incantation, and suddenly all seven statues were glowing with a soft white light. _Divination_. As Caleb had said.

He moved his hand along the stoney orc’s face, tracing the lines of his sharp cheekbones and protruding tusks. The head was mostly bald, but etched hair sprouted partway down his skull and fell across his shoulders. Only the torso, shoulders, and head of the eight-foot-tall figure were visible, unless he looked down the slim pocket of space encircling the statue, where it had melted the surrounding snow. The orc stared blankly back at him, carved too roughly to be a petrified living thing.

Essek dropped his hand and turned to look at Caleb. “It’s not from the Age of Arcanum.”

“It’s not?” Caleb’s snow covered eyebrows furrowed in confusion and surprise. From his brow to the top of his cheeks was the only bit of skin he still had exposed.

“According to history books, orcs were created during the Calamity, so this,” and Essek gestured to the ring of seven statues, “must have originated after the fall of Aeor.”

“If the orcish creation myths are true,” Caleb added.

“Indeed.”

Looking back at the statues, Essek yearned to adjust their density, pull them out of the ground, and take them apart piece by piece to study. But he couldn’t risk damaging their unique magical capability.

Instead, Essek snapped open his pocket dimension and retrieved an owl feather and a pearl. With one hand, he placed the pearl to the orc’s forehead, a habit picked up from _Fortune’s Favor_ and used the other to trace a rune with the feather. As he finished the incantation, the pearl turned to dust and he snapped the feather back. The familiar, if strange, feeling of _Identify_ rushed through his body. It was like a third eye peeled open on his forehead. As he gazed at the statue now, he wasn’t just seeing it through his own eyes. New senses he hadn’t had before gathered information from the aura of the esoteric object.

The signs of divination magic were even stronger now, but there was a strange, undefinable undertone to it that he couldn’t connect to any of the traditional schools of magic. It tugged at his mind, ignited his curiosity, and sent him cycling once more through a thousand different theories about where this _thing_ could have come from. He opened his eyes, not remembering when he’d closed them, and stared at the orc’s face, willing it to reveal more of its past. Unaffected, it stared back. He gnawed at his bottom lip with his fangs before giving up and moving on.

Essek floated over to the next statue, inspected it carefully, cast _Identify_ , revelled in the strange, seemingly ancient magic, and then moved on to the next. A human. An elf. A halfling. A gnome. A goliath. A dwarf. The more time he spent wrapped up in the unknown energy of the statues, the more uncomfortable he became. It was as if each _Identify_ cast another layer upon him and he was nearly suffocating under the weight. The magic nagged at the back of his mind, like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue or a shadow haunting his peripheral vision.

With a deep breath, he put some space between himself and the last statue. His eyes danced around the circle, taking in each figure from a different perspective. They all wore robes of a fashion he’d never seen before and that certainly weren’t reminiscent of the wildfolk of Eiselcross. All had the same open-eyed, neutral expression. A chill ran down his spine as he could almost _feel_ them staring at him. Seeing him. Knowing him. Judging him.

His stomach hollowed out as he wondered what they found buried deep under his skin, hidden and insecure, just waiting to claw its way out. He shivered at the knowledge that these statues could reveal his treason to anyone who had the mind to ask.

With a slight hurry, he floated over to Caleb, standing patiently outside of the circle.

“Alright, do it,” Essek said.

He felt Caleb’s eyes on him now. Seeing. Knowing. Judging. But he kept his gaze on the center of the circle as he strained to listen to Caleb’s incantation. A ring of fire erupted in and around the statues, steam hissing as it rose off the ground in opaque waves. The warmth elicited a tiny, relieved sigh from Essek as it permeated his thick clothes.

The flames lasted only a minute, but the steam lingered, leaving them to wait for it to cool down once more. Essek nearly jumped as he felt a hand slip into his, but he threaded his gloved fingers with Caleb’s and cast a glance to the redhead. All he could see were Caleb’s eyes, bright blue and— worried, he noticed, with a pang of guilt. Caleb’s eyelashes caught the gently falling snowflakes, each melting upon exposure to his body heat. Essek squeezed his hand, and Caleb’s eyes bore into his own. Seeing. Knowing. Judging.

Essek let his hand go and returned once more to the interior of the circle.

He glided over the muddy grass, breath hitching as he saw the pedestal in the center. Caleb’s boots made a squelching noise as he followed behind.

Essek leaned down to look at the circular markings etched into the side of the pedestal. Each one lined up with one of the statues. He swallowed as his heart began thumping faster in his ribcage. A ringing white noise filled his ears as he traced his fingers through the air and pressed a pearl into the side of the pedestal, casting _Identify_ for the final time. The same unnerving sense of divination and indescribable, unknown magic flowed over him.

He let out a shaky breath.

There was only one more thing to do.

“There’s no way I can convince you not to do this?” Caleb tugged his scarf down to reveal a grimace, already resigned to the answer.

Essek looked at him and mirrored Caleb’s movement to reveal a small, nervous grin. He moved closer to the human. For a heartbeat, their hot breaths mingled between them before Essek leaned in and pressed a kiss to Caleb’s drawn lips. They were cold and chapped, but after a stubborn moment, they parted. Essek revelled in the warmth. His hand clutched at the back of Caleb’s neck, still covered in knitted layers. Flush together, Essek swiped his tongue along Caleb’s bottom lip and nipped it, eliciting a soft moan. Caleb’s arms wound around his waist and he memorized the weight of them against his body.

He would never admit it to Caleb, but he kissed him like it would be their last. He _knew_ it wouldn’t be, but a small inkling of fear pushed him to soak in as much of Caleb as he could, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless. After this was over, he wouldn’t be the same person, no matter how much he insisted to Caleb (and himself) that he’d be okay with whatever answer he received. But as he tried to lose himself in his partner’s fiery scent and searing heat, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of seven blank stares piercing into him. Seeing. Knowing. Judging.

Essek pulled back, wet lips suddenly very cold as the northern air nipped at them. He ran his thumb along Caleb’s cheek, wiping away a tear he hoped was just from the cold.

“I’ll be fine. Four or five years is nothing,” he said, with a smirk, to convince both Caleb and himself. Nevermind that one anecdote was not enough to reveal a pattern. Nevermind that wasn’t the real reason for either of their nerves.

And, before Caleb could say any more or do anything to stop him, he stepped onto the pedestal, feet thumping softly onto the stone.

For a moment, nothing changed.

Then, the feeling of being _looked at_ grew to an uncomfortable, blazing hot prickle along his skin. He felt a light pressure weighing on him from every side. They looked at him now in a way they hadn’t been before, as if each of them had just cast _Identify_ on him. It was invasive; his stomach roiled in discomfort.

Slowly, the sound of intermingling, whispered voices wafted into his head, steadily growing louder as they asked “Do you give to receive?” over and over until fading once more. It was eerie and unlike any _Sending_ he’d ever experienced. His words caught in his throat, and he found himself unable to speak. The small kernel of fear lodged in his chest was now expanding, its ravenous tendrils snaking through his body, infecting him with doubt. The voices came again, this time murmuring, “Ask and we take.”

He couldn’t move if he wanted to, but of course he _didn’t_ want to. This is what he came here for. They’d trekked for days — weeks, maybe — through the snowy landscape of Eiselcross to find this ring of statues again, driven by the slim hope that it had reappeared somewhere else. He and Caleb had fended off countless beasts and monsters, had several far-too-close calls, and many nervous, desperate, _needy_ nights in the Tower. Anxiety had wormed its way between them, pushed them apart, raised their voices in anger, fear, and stubborn love. It was worth it, he’d told himself. He couldn’t go back now. The cold distance between them had to have been for _something_.

The seven pairs of eyes settled on him, waiting, seeing, knowing, judging.

His heart pounded so loudly he was sure Caleb could hear. It sent blood roaring through his ears as he asked his prepared question.

“Is the Luxon truly a god?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> I like to imagine those statues reappeared somewhere else in Eiselcross after they disappeared. Oh also thanks to a random Reddit thread for the bit about them coming from after the Age of Arcanum


End file.
